Page 16 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

She just wanted this over and done with so he could leave. Yes, he might be being kind to her now, but it still didn’t excuse his earlier behaviour towards her, or yesterday’s either.

‘Now this might sting a little.’ Having revealed the gash across her shin, Charlie picked up the bowl of water and dunked in some cotton wool he must have found in the first-aid kit she kept in the cupboard, before squeezing the excess water out.

‘Uh-huh.’ Bracing herself, she was careful to keep her eyes covered as she felt Charlie dab the cotton wool across her leg. ‘Ouch.’

‘Sorry.’ With the wound cleaned, he stuck a plaster over it before gently rolling the leg of her jeans back down. ‘All done.’

Leaning forward, she straightened her jeans as he stood up. ‘Thank you. And sorry if I sounded ungrateful.’

‘No worries.’ He glanced down at the bowl in his hand. ‘I’ll just get rid of this. Try to get some of that tea down you.’

Picking up her mug again, Nicola took a sip, the highly sweetened drink drying her mouth. ‘Great, thanks.’

‘So what happened to your car? Did it break down? I can take a quick look if you like? Save you risking your neck on the country roads in the middle of the night again.’ He disappeared into the kitchen with the bowl before returning empty-handed. ‘I’ll go and take a look now.’

Pushing her hands against the sofa cushions, she forced herself to stand up despite the pain. ‘No, it’s not here. I don’t have it anymore.’

‘What? You swapped your car for a bike which would have been tatty twenty years ago?’ He chuckled, his eyes wide with surprise.

‘Well, no. It wasn’t a choice.’ She frowned. He was laughing at her situation with absolutely no knowledge as to what had happened. She guessed he normally just had things handed to him on a plate then? After all, he’d inherited his uncle’s farm, hadn’t he?

‘Sorry, that was a poor joke.’ He smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

She sighed. It wasn’t his fault she felt so wound up at the moment. It was Nathan’s. ‘Sorry, I just assumed you were being serious. Over the last couple of days, you didn’t strike me as the sort to joke around.’

‘Yes, well, I guess I’ve just had a lot on, you know. What with getting the farm ready to sell… among other things.’ He looked at her with that expression again, the one he’d had when he’d rescued her from the side of the road. His piercing blue eyes paling with warmth. ‘So you cycled up to the farm in this heat? You’re nothing if not persistent.’

‘I didn’t really have a choice, did I? I needed to beg you to lend us the tractors and trailers for the carnival.’

‘I would hardly call it begging,’ Charlie scoffed. ‘More like demanding, ranting even.’

Nicola took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, I… I’ve just had one of those days.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Haven’t we all?’

She nodded. ‘Can I ask why you’re selling? I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but Farmer Williams, your uncle, loved Little Mead so much. I remember him telling me how the farm had been in the family for generations. I’m sure he said something crazy, like a couple of hundred years.’

Taking a slow breath in, Charlie shook his head slightly and glanced towards the door, his expression reverting to his earlier steely, indifferent manner. ‘I should probably get going.’

She shouldn’t have said anything. He must have had his reasons why he’d decided to put Little Mead on the market. It couldn’t be something he’d considered lightly. ‘Okay. Well, thanks again.’

‘No worries.’ Picking up his jacket from the arm of the sofa, she watched as the edge of it caught her handbag, which she’d put there when she’d hobbled inside, knocking it to the edge of the sofa, its contents spilling across the rug. Bending down, he began shovelling the contents back inside, pausing as he picked up the photographs of Little Mead and his uncle that Jill had dropped by Pennycress on the school run. ‘What are these?’

‘They’re photos from past carnivals. From years ago.’ She hobbled across to him as he stood up and pointed to the one he held in his left hand. ‘See, that one shows the carnival as it makes its way up through the High Street, and the other one is a picture of your uncle helping with the village youth club as they decorated their float.’

‘Huh.’ Holding them up, Charlie scrutinised each one in turn, an expression she couldn’t read flickering across his face.

‘You can keep hold of them, if you like?’

‘Is this some ruse to try to get me to agree to help you? Agree to lend the village the use of my much-needed tractors and trailers?’ He placed them face down on the coffee table, his shoulders visibly tightening as he did so.

‘Well, I?—’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ He rubbed the palm of his hand over his face. ‘I really don’t have time for any favours and I certainly don’t need to build any relationships with the locals. I’m not even staying in Meadowfield. In fact, the sooner I can sell and get back to my normal life, the better.’

‘Right.’ Nicola stuffed the remaining items which had spilt back in her bag and stood up just as Trixie strolled in. Picking her up, she buried her face in her fur before looking back at Charlie. There must be something she could say. ‘I know you’re selling, but why don’t you do it for him, for Farmer Williams? In his honour? After all, like I told you, he was one of the founders of the Meadowfield carnival.’

‘No.’ Charlie shook his head, his face clouding with an expression Nicola couldn’t quite read. Was it grief, guilt or just plain not giving a damn?

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